


The Worst Kind of Torture

by totalizzyness



Series: 00Q Prompts [14]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalizzyness/pseuds/totalizzyness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Q is ticklish and Bond finds out. Surprising results ;)</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Kind of Torture

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Worst Kind of Torture](https://archiveofourown.org/works/886874) by [AprilforSpring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AprilforSpring/pseuds/AprilforSpring)



James knew all of a body’s secrets came out whilst it was asleep. And he knew he shouldn’t really be poking about for secrets whilst his lover slept, but it was by complete accident he happened upon a particular one.  
  
Q had finally succumbed to exhaustion from being awake so long. His long hours put in at Q branch, doing his own work and correcting people’s mistakes, before Bond whisked him back home and fucked him gently in to the mattress. His eyes slid shut almost immediately, his breaths coming out in a soft puffs, his fingers twitching like he was coding in his dreams.   
  
James smiled, knowing he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while yet, rolling on to his side to face Q, watching him sleep. Q was innocent looking most of the time — it was the big hair, thick glasses, and young face — but in his sleep he looked simply angelic, even if there was semen drying on his stomach.  
  
He reached out gently, pushing Q’s sweaty tangle of hair from his face, stroking two fingers down his cheek. Q let out an almost inaudible moan, his hand flopping towards his face, scratching at his cheek before flopping back down on the bed. Bond’s heart clenched, it was hard for him to believe how far and hard he’d fallen for the skinny little quartermaster.  
  
He continued stroking his fingers over Q’s soft skin; tracing the tendons in his neck, stroking a finger along his prominent collar bone, carefully poking at the little bite marks he’d left earlier. It didn’t take much for Q to bruise; Bond hadn’t thought it possible to actually leave finger marks on someone’s hips during quite athletic sex, but with Q’s pale complexion, the marks showed up almost instantly. Bond loved it, Q didn’t mind so long as the marks were easily concealable.  
  
His fingers continued their journey, stroking the outline of what would be his left pectoral — if he put in any time at the gym, his thumb rubbing against the brownish nub of his nipple. Q let out another quiet moan, shifting slightly in his sleep, curling a little towards Bond. Bond already knew his nipples were sensitive, it was his go-to area to get Q in the mood when he was being stubborn.  
  
Bond’s lips quirked in to a self-satisfied smirk as he recalled the events that had just transpired in the bed he was sprawled in. The image of the now innocent, sleeping quartermaster writhing beneath him, moaning loud enough to wake the neighbours if the walls weren’t soundproofed, grabbing on to Bond’s arms like he was about to fall. Touching Q invoked some kind of sense memory in Bond, and all were particularly wonderful memories. Not all of those memories were of their sexual encounters… but most were.  
  
Bond’s hand stopped swirling patterns in to Q’s pale skin with his fingers, trailing down to his side, stroking over the even softer skin of his waist. If Q sucked in, Bond was sure he’d be able to fit his hands around the quartermaster’s waist, he was so thin. At the start of their relationship was afraid of somehow snapping Q in half or breaking one of his skinny bones. But Q had proved repeatedly he could handle whatever Bond could throw at him; Bond should have learned from their first meeting to never underestimate the quartermaster.  
  
As his fingers continued exploring Q’s soft expanse of skin, they trailed up towards the span just underneath his underarm. A finger traced soft circles in to the skin, Q let out a small shiver, shifting his arm over to cover the skin Bond was touching. Bond smirked, gently easing the arm away, stroking the skin again. Q twitched again, a little more violently, coupling it with a groan. So Q was ticklish. Bond logged away the piece of information, planning to use it another day.  
  
Another day, turned out to be, in fact, the very next day. At midday, he hurried out to get some food for himself and Q, knowing he’d forget to eat, and made his way down to Q branch. He marched in to Q’s office, like he had every right to be there, placed the food on the desk and marched through the side door that led to the labs. Q was hunched over one of the tables with a middle-aged woman, tinkering with a motherboard — he’d learnt what a motherboard was after he’d described one as a big microchip, and Q laughed right in his face.  
  
“Excuse me, I need to borrow your boss,” Bond grinned, wrapping an arm around Q’s bicep. Q tried to pull away, dropping his tiny screwdriver on to the table.  
  
“Bond, I have work to be doing!”  
  
The woman just laughed, waving a hand in their direction. “Just go, it’ll be fine.”  
  
Bond tipped his head at her in thanks, dragging Q through to his office. Q sighed loudly, folding his arms over his chest as Bond pulled a chair over to Q’s desk.  
  
“What was so important you had to interrupt my upgrading of M’s motherboard?”  
  
“M can wait. Come on, lunch.”  
  
Q looked over as Bond pulled out a plastic container of salad from the Greek restaurant they frequented too often. He huffed out a resigned sigh, plonking himself down in his chair. They started eating in silence, not too much to say to one another, Bond taking large bites of his gyro and Q stabbing the leaves of his salad.  
  
“So… what does M need his computer upgrading for?”  
  
Q smiled, piercing a chunk of cucumber on the end of his fork. “Well, general memory upgrades, upgrading his graphics card because his is several years out of date. And I spent all week programming a bunch of security coding on to a chip, no bigger than a five-pee, to install.”  
  
“Why so small?”  
  
“So if the computer is stolen it shouldn’t be recognised. It should work, theoretically, and if it does M’s computer will be the second most unhackable computer in England.”  
  
Bond chuckled. “After yours, I presume?”  
  
“Of course… And I’ll be honest, most of the work on M’s computer is just cleaning it. Computers get so dusty.”  
  
They continued discussing Q’s work with computers all through their lunch date, although it was a pretty one-sided conversation. Bond eventually had to force Q’s silence by covering the quartermaster’s lips with his own. Q let out a quiet moan, relaxing in to Bond’s arms, his own arms slowly threading around the agent’s neck. Bond pulled Q out of his chair, pushing him up against his desk; his hands trailed up Q’s sides, fingers stroking just under his arms.  
  
Q let out a quiet squeak in to Bond’s mouth, his arms jerking down by his sides. His face flushed, eyes widening as Bond just smirked at him.  
  
“Ticklish?”  
  
“No…”  
  
Bond continued to smirk, hands sliding up from Q’s waist. Q tried to wriggle out of Bond’s grip, pushing himself away from the table. Bond just stalked after him, walking him back and forth around the room until he had him cornered. Q looked terrified, folding his arms across his chest. Bond just chuckled, managing to pry his arms apart.  
  
“James don’t. Please. Don’t do this.”  
  
Bond clamped his hand around Q’s wrists, holding them above his head and pinned them to the wall. Q was writhing beneath him, trying his best to get away but Bond was much too strong, pressing their hips together to keep Q still.  
  
“Seriously, James, don’t. This is considered torture!”  
  
Bond chuckled, pressing his free hand against Q’s chest, softly tracing his hands over his clothed chest before holding the zip between his fingers, pulling it down and unzipping his cardigan, pushing it up. Q tried his best to get away, wriggling about as much as he could. Bond traced his fingers back up Q’s chest, across to his armpit, seeing how much of a reaction he could pull from Q through his clothes. Q’s instinct reaction was to try and jerk away, but Bond was still too strong.  
  
“Please, James. Stop.”  
  
“Calm down, Q, I’m not going to hurt you.”  
  
Q let out a gasp as Bond made small circular motions with his finger. “Stop tickling me, then! It’s not… nice.”  
  
Bond chuckled, pressing their chests together. “Do you have any other ticklish bits I should know about?”  
  
“Just the soles of my feet, but please! Don’t.”   
  
Bond traced his fingers over the spot once more, Q still writhing in his grip before he mashed their lips together, relinquishing his hold on Q’s wrists. Q let himself sink in to the kiss for a few moments before shoving Bond away, taking a few strides to get away from him.  
  
“You’re a bastard, James Bond.”  
  
Bond smiled, taking a few cautious steps towards the quartermaster. “I know, I’m sorry.”  
  
“No you’re not. You’d do it again in an instant!”  
  
“I’m just learning your weaknesses, so I know best how to defend you.”  
  
Q scoffed, folding his arms over his chest as Bond got closer. “Yeah, right… I think you should tell me one of your weaknesses to compensate.”  
  
Bond stepped up behind the quartermaster, sliding his arms around his waist, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re my only real weakness, Q.”  
  
Q said nothing for a few moments, before snorting and turning to face Bond. “That’s just… crap. Do women really buy this shit you tell them? Lines don’t work on me, Mr Bond. Besides, I can’t very well hold myself hostage to get back at you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my Tumblr; [[link](http://the-nerdinator.tumblr.com/post/36249818977/james-knew-all-of-a-bodys-secrets-came-out-whilst)]


End file.
